Headless Horseman
by punkprincessabz
Summary: After a series of disappearances in Vancouver, Sam and Dean hit the road to hunt what seems to be the spirit of the Headless Horseman but after Sam is kidnapped, Dean is faced with the possibility that they may be hunting more than just a ghost.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Found anything?"

Sam glances up from his laptop to look at his brother. "Nothing much. Three murders in Florence, Oregon the past week. The police won't give out details but they have someone in custody. There's a report here of a possession in Connecticut but doesn't look like the real deal."

Dean narrows his eyes. "What makes you say that?"

Sam turns the laptop around so Dean can see the screen. "Anna Carlson, 17, claimed to be levitating, vomiting uncontrollably and…" Dean squints before raising his eyebrows, amused. He laughs as he adds, "speaking in Latin."

Sam turns the laptop back around, giving his older brother an _I-told-you-so_ look before reaching for his beer.

"So, what, you think everything supernatural decided to take a vacation this week?" Dean asks through a mouthful of fries.

Sam half-shrugs as he types, stopping as he notices one of the results that his latest search has pulled up.

His curious expression does not go unnoticed by Dean. "What?"

Sam doesn't look up, but continues reading as he explains to his brother. "According to this two seventeen-year-old girls were found dead out in a forest yesterday and, get this, their heads were never found."

"Never found? As in they weren't attached to their bodies?"

"Yeah." Sam smirks slightly at the disgusted expression that crosses Dean's face.

"Okay, gross but what's that got to do with us?"

"The past couple of months, there's been reports of ghost sightings in the area. The _Headless Horseman._"

Dean's eyes go wide in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "You're kidding me? Where?"

Sam scans the laptop screen. "Uh…Vancouver. British Columbia."

"Canada? That's a day's drive from here, long way to travel for something that could just be a murder and a bunch of scared kids."

If Sam heard Dean, he makes no indication of it. "This doesn't make any sense." Sam shakes his head as he continues to skim read the rest of the article. "The Headless Horseman legend originated in New York. I mean; there have been dozens, hundreds, of sightings on the East coast but…Canada?"

"Maybe it's not _the_ Headless Horseman. Could just be some other headless spirit?"

Sam doesn't look up from the laptop as he replies. "Maybe."

"Worth checking out?" Dean asks. _It's not like we're getting any closer to finding dad, might as well do something._

Sam shrugs. "It's the only lead we've got."

Dean studies his younger brother for a moment, knowing the same thoughts are running through his head. The trail to their dad got cold months ago. Hell, it was cold before they even started looking. Dean wasn't even sure anymore if they were still looking for John and the bastard that killed their mom. These days it seemed as if they were just hunting to pass the time, hunting because neither of them were willing to admit that they weren't going to find John Winchester.

Sam reaches for the car keys in the middle of the table but Dean, ever the faster and stronger of the two brothers, snatches them up first and stands.

"I'm driving."

He flashes Sam a quick grin and heads for the door. Sam rolls his eyes and tosses a twenty on the table for the food and drinks as he heads out of the diner.

* * *

Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time to 'Enter Sandman', more to keep himself awake than anything. As the Impala speeds past a 'You are now leaving Helena' sign he sighs and glances across at Sam, asleep in the passenger seat. 

Dean turns his attention back to the road, not entirely willing to wake his brother up, even if he can barely keep his eyes open. He realises the tape has stopped and leans across to open the glove compartment for another. He switches the tape, waiting to see what comes out of the speakers next. Boston. Well at least it's upbeat enough to keep him awake. For a few more minutes at least.

The song finishes and silence fills the car as the tape skips to the next track. Dean's eyelids begin to droop and he shakes his head, trying to wake himself up even if he knows it's useless. After another glance at Sam, Dean finally gives in, a mischievous smirk crossing his face as he cranks up the volume on the stereo, singing along to 'Peace of Mind'. Sam wakes up with a start.

Dean laughs and if there was any small part of Sam that wasn't pissed off before, it's gone now.

"Your turn to drive, Geek Boy."

Sam glares at him. "And you couldn't have just woke me up and told me that?"

"What are you talking about, Sammy? I did wake you up."

Dean's trademark grin that he flashes Sam winds his little brother up even more. "It's _Sam_," Sam insists through gritted teeth.

* * *

"Head's up!" 

Sam catches the bag of peanut M&Ms seconds before it collides with the side of his head. The driver's door of the car opens and Dean climbs in, handing Sam a bottle of water from the gas station. Sam shuts the passenger door.

"So did you find anything out or were you too busy raiding the candy counter?"

"There's a motel about ten minutes from here, Dolly Daydream." Dean retorts as he starts up the engine.

Sam glares at his brother. "You're hilarious."

"Don't I know it." Dean grins, pulling out of the gas station and turning right.

"Did you ask about the girls that went missing?"

"Tried but the store clerk wasn't exactly in a chatty mood. Maybe someone at the Motel will be in a more…sharing mood."

"I wouldn't count on it. Most of the people around here look kinda…"

"Creepy?"

Sam looks thoughtfully out of the window at the depressing scenery that is Vancouver, grey sky and a drizzle of rain. The few people that are wondering the streets, appear to be cautious and in a hurry, all with similarly weary faces. Although the shops lining the street are all open no one

"Yeah…creepy," he replies.

* * *

Hope you guys enjoyed it, this is one of my first fics so I'd really appreciate any feedback good or bad. I'll post the second part later this week. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sam glances up as the motel room door opens and Dean steps inside, carrying a paper bag which Sam presumes contains either coffee, food, or both.

"So this old woman at the diner a block away said that Katie Evans and Kristen Grey weren't the first to go missing."

"There's more?" Sam asks as he closes his laptop.

Dean slings his leather jacket onto one of the beds. "Five more. Two weeks ago a bunch of High School kids were camping out in the woods and two of them disappeared during the night. Their friends found their bodies the next day. And last month there was some guy called Richard Bough and, a couple of months before that, a young couple from out of town."

"Any connection between the victims? Other than that they're all being murdered in these woods?"

"Well old Barbara got a little less chatty when I asked if she'd heard of the Headless Horseman story."

Sam looks at him incredulously.

"What?" Dean asks confused.

After all these years of hunting, Sam couldn't believe Dean would mention something like that to a normal person, even if just in passing. His brother wasn't stupid, but sometimes Sam could swear Dean had been born with absolutely no sense of logic whatsoever. Well, now they'd lost any hope of getting more information from this woman seeing as she probably though Dean should be locked up. This was exactly the reason Sam preferred books and research to talking to witnesses and townspeople. Books didn't look at you like you were crazy and threaten to call the men in the white coats.

Sam realises that Dean is still staring at him, waiting for an answer, and shakes his head in response. "Forget it. So I've been reading some of the accounts of these witnesses who supposedly saw this Headless Horseman."

Dean sits down, giving his brother a pointed look when he fails to continue. "And?"

"Well the stories vary but most of them mention a man on a black horse with no head." Sam shrugs.

"So if he's just a spirit, all we have to do is find his bones and torch them, right?"

Sam gives his older brother a look. "_If_ what we're really looking for _is_ a spirit."

"Can't you find where he's buried?"

"Where who's buried? Dean, we don't even know whose bones we're looking for."

"Yeah we do, that Crane guy."

Sam struggles to hold back the urge to laugh. Saying that Dean was jumping to conclusions would probably be an understatement in this case. "Ichabod Crane?"

"Dude, I only saw that movie once."

"The legend is set in Sleepy Hollow, New York. Why would the spirit be in Canada?"

"Maybe the legend was wrong. How do we know it didn't all happen here?"

Sam sighs and picks up his jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"To the library."

Dean raises his eyebrows.

"I'll look up death's in the area, see if there's any violent deaths, anyone beheaded, anything that could lead to a pissed off spirit."

"So you don't think it is this Itcha Crane guy? Even though everything we've found out suggests it is."

"Until I know all the facts, I'm not counting on it." Sam replies, exasperated. He walks out of the room.

* * *

When Sam leaves the library, Dean's '67 Impala is already parked outside. A confused look crosses Sam's face but he shrugs it off as he crosses the street and climbs into the passenger seat of the car. 

"Miss me or something?" Sam smirks.

"You wish, Geek Boy." Dean holds up a notepad. "Might have found a lead on the Headless Horseman story."

"Yeah, me too. Apparently a…" Sam scans his notes. "Thomas Priestley was murdered a few years ago. No one seems to know what actually happened but he was found in the woods, missing his head. Police searched the woods but nothing…" Sam looks up to see Dean's crestfallen face. "…What?"

Dean expression instantly changes, as he shoots back "nothing." Sam had always been better at research than him and it didn't really bother Dean except for times like these when he'd just spent an hour at the police station trying to convince an officer that he worked for Homeland Security, just to get a look at their files.

Sam glances at the reporter's style notepad in his brother's hand and then looks inquisitively at Dean. "What did you find out?"

"Remember the group of High School kids I mentioned that had a run in with old Heady a couple of weeks back? Well one of them lives just a couple of blocks away from here. Bethany something."

"So we talk to her, find out if she saw anything?"

Dean nods as he starts up the engine.

* * *

After the third knock, the door opens to reveal a teenage girl, about seventeen years old, with long blonde hair. She's wearing sweats and looks as if she hasn't left the house in days. 

"Yes?"

"Bethany Young?" The girl nods.

Dean flips open an FBI badge. The girl, Bethany, leans forward to read it but catches nothing more than a glimpse of the photograph as Dean quickly returns the fake badge to one of the back pockets of his jeans.

"I'm agent Bill Hodgkin's, this is my partner Jack Lawson…" Dean gestures to Sam. "We're here about the incident that happened a couple of weeks ago. In the woods?"

"I already talked to the police."

"We though this was more of a matter for the Bureau," Dean replies with a confidence in his voice that could only come from years of telling the exact same lie. "May we come in?"

The girl nods and steps back, opening the door wider for the two brothers to enter.

* * *

Bethany walks out of the kitchen, carrying two cups of coffee, which she hands to Sam and Dean before sitting down in an armchair across from them. Dean leans forward slightly. 

"So, Bethany, you told the police you saw something, right after your friends disappeared? Something strange?"

Bethany looks away and nods slowly, long-held back tears starting to glint in her eyes, but doesn't offer any further information.

Dean glances across at Sam. He'd never been good at this part. Comforting people who had just lost friends and relatives was yet another thing Sam surpassed him in. Sam catches Dean's eye before shifting his gaze back to Bethany.

"Bethany, is there anything else you remember, anything you didn't tell the police? Even if it was something that didn't seem important at the time?" Sam asks softly, in what he hopes is a comforting tone. It works because Bethany looks at him, her face screwing up in concentration from both trying to recall what happened and holding back tears.

"I can't really remember. I think… I think I heard…"

"Just take your time."

Bethany sighs before continuing, her voice full of scepticism. "I heard… hooves. Like there were horses even though it was the middle of the night."

Dean sets his cup of coffee down on the table. "Did you see any horses?"

Bethany shakes her head. "Not really, only…" She glances up at Sam and Dean, both watching her intently, waiting for her to continue. "Only the one _he_ had."

"He? You mean the Headless Horseman?" Dean clarifies.

"Yeah, but I mean, I was panicking at the time. I was seeing things. I must have been seeing things?"

Sam and Dean share a look.

"Bethany, do you think you could remember whereabouts in the woods you were?"

* * *

"This is a waste of time. It's dark already and even if there was anything to find out here, we won't see it now." Dean boredly scans the surrounding woodland with his torch, as if to justify his comment. 

Sam doesn't look up from where he is knelt on the ground, examining something unknown to Dean. "Well it seems like this spirit – if it really is a spirit – takes people at night. Maybe it'll come after one of us."

"Yeah, maybe it'll tell us where its bones are buried and hand us some lighter fluid and a book of matches too. You know as well as I do, Sammy, it's never that easy."

When Sam doesn't reply, a look of concern passes over Dean's face. "Sam?"

"Come and see this."

Dean walks over to his little brother and crouches down beside him. Sam points at the bloody stump of flesh lying on the ground, partly hidden by the grass around it.

"Is that…?"

"A human hand. And there are _bite marks_ around the edges."

Dean narrows his eyes. "What kind of spirit eats people?"

"Maybe one that isn't a spirit?"

"What about all the survivors, the ones that claimed they saw the spirit of the Headless Horseman?"

"Just because people saw a spirit, doesn't mean that's what took the victims."

"So you're saying there's two evil sons-of-bitches out here? A spirit and whatever took all those people?"

Sam nods. "I know it's unlikely but it's not impossible, right?"

"Then what are we after? Some kinda of flesh-eating demon maybe?" Dean pauses before adding, with a sceptical expression on his face, "a zombie?"

"I don't know but whatever it is, it's a cannibal."

Dean makes a face. One encounter with flesh-eating crazy fuckers was enough; he wasn't looking forward to the prospect of more.

Sam tenses, not unnoticed by Dean. "What?"

"Did you just hear something?" Sam slowly gets to his feet, scanning the trees ahead with his torch.

Dean squints in the darkness; trying to make out something more than just the dark shapes of the surrounded trees as he reaches for his torch. He hears the footfall behind him a second too late before the wood echoes with a resounding thud – the sound of a heavy object colliding with his own skull he realises – and everything goes dark.

* * *

I'll try to finish the third part this weekend and get it betaed and up a.s.a.p. next week,hopefully by about Monday/Tuesday but I'm on holiday from next weekend so I have packing and everything to get done too. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The first thought that drifts into Dean's consciousness is that he's back at the motel, waking up after a deep sleep. A sharp stab of pain through his head. _Ow, what the fuck?_ Pain. Intense, throbbing, dull, fucking pain. Dean knows even before he opens his eyes that something isn't right. He can feel it. He isn't sure what is wrong exactly, but he feels…empty. Something isn't as it should be. Something is missing. _Sammy._

Dean's eyes dart open but everything is still just as dark as it was with his eyes closed. _Kidnapped?_ No, he can smell the outdoors, the cold evening air. He blinks a couple of times, trying to remember where he is, waiting for something to register with his brain. Then, shapes in the darkness. Trees. A very distant, very faint light overhead. The moon. _I'm in the woods,_ he realises.

Ignoring the jarring pain shooting across his forehead, he forces himself to sit up, digging his palms into the muddy ground. _Sam. Where's Sam?_ His younger brother had been right there before Dean was knocked out. And now he was gone. Sammy was gone.

The memories start to flood back. The drive to the woods. Following the map drawn by that Bethany chick. Almost giving up when their search came up empty. Then Sam had found something, right here, in this spot, on the ground. And then…darkness. Someone had knocked them out. Dean tries to call out but his voice is raspy from being unconscious for so long, from being without water. He clears his throat.

"SAM! SAMMY!"

Dean pauses, listening to the darkness. He hears noises. Trees whispering. The wind whistling through the undergrowth rhythmically. A small animal scurrying across the branches of a tree overhead. The distant buzz of flies. But no Sam. No shout from his brother, lost somewhere in the trees. No call for help. Nothing.

Dean slowly, silently, gets to his feet. Eyes scan the trees that seem to be closing in on him, their branches held menacingly out in front of them. Looks for something that could tell him where his brother is. Dean lifts his foot, preparing to take a step forward, but hesitates before setting it back down again. _There's something here._ The hair stands up on the back of his neck and he automatically begins to reach for the gun in the back of his jeans. It isn't there. _Fuck._

There's a ringing noise, not close by but not far enough away to be ignored either. _Bells. Bells in the middle of the fucking woods. I'm going crazy._ The sound of hooves surrounds Dean, the echo making it near impossible to tell where the sound is coming from. _I really am going crazy._ Then, out of the trees, a shimmering white entity. A spirit. The Headless Horseman.

Dean stares in disbelief. The spirit halts for a moment, and if it had a head Dean would have sworn it was staring at him, before whirling and riding back into the trees.

Dean stands rooted to the spot, staring after the headless spirit in confusion. _It didn't attack me. What the fuck, it didn't attack me? _Dean remains poised for a moment, unsure whether the spirit is gone for good. When the trees begin to whisper again and the sound of the flies buzzing increases in volume, Dean moves silently and stealthily towards the trees, in the graceful way his younger brother always envied. If the spirit didn't want to hurt him, then maybe it wanted to show him something. He disappears into the trees where the Headless Horseman had gone only moments before.

* * *

Dean runs. Runs through the woods until his legs give out and he can barely breathe anymore, let alone keep moving. He collapses to the ground, waiting for his head to stop spinning and the feeling in his legs to return.

Glancing up at the sky, he realises the sun is high in the sky. He's been out here, in the middle of nowhere, for hours.

Dean shifts himself on the ground, trying to find a comfortable sitting position while he catches his breath. He'd found nothing. The spirit hadn't come back, or even left a trail. If it had wanted to show him something it had obviously given up now.

There had been no trace of Sammy either. If it weren't for Dean's memories, no one would even know Sam Winchester had even been out here in these God forsaken woods. Although he still refuses to believe it, there is nothing out here that will lead Dean to his brother. He has only two options left to choose from. Stay out here, tramping through these woods and wasting pointless hours while whatever has Sam could be doing God knows what to him, or go back into town and do some research. See if there's some connection between where the earlier victims disappeared, something that could point to where Sammy might have been taken. For once in his life, Dean decides to take the sensible option.

* * *

Dean sits in his treasured Impala, unmoving. He watches the police department building, knowing he's probably wasting his time, but he has no other choice. He has to find Sammy and the only way to do that is to connect the dots between the previous victims and find whatever is taking these people before it hurts Sam. With a disheartened sigh, Dean swings open the car door and heads for the building.

* * *

The girl at the desk looks to be in her early twenties. Dark haired, big-eyed, pretty, the type Dean would normally be flirting with by now but all he can think about at this moment is finding his brother. He doesn't have time for his usual antics. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the same FBI badge he'd used earlier that day.

Dean barely has time to open his mouth before the woman looks up and sees him. She flashes a smile.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Agent Bill Hodgkins, I'm with the FBI."

The woman nods. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hodgkins but we don't permit the Bureau to become involved with cases unless…"

Dean interjects. "I'm investigating the disappearances of Jake Hampshire and Carolina Newton. Both were American citizens, and both were murdered and decapitated in this area three months ago?"

The woman looks a little taken aback. "Oh. Well you'll have to wait for Burgh, Eric Burgh. He should be back in about half an hour?"

Dean plasters on a fake smile. "Well, you see…" He pauses, indicating he doesn't know the woman's name.

"Alicia."

"Alicia, I'm leaving town tonight and I really don't have the time to wait around. You know how it is for us law enforcement guys…" Dean laughs.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't matter if you just took a quick look at the records. As long as you don't leave the premises with them…"

Dean flashes another quick smile and nods. "Of course."

* * *

It's the sound of footsteps a short distance away that causes Sam to stir from his unconscious state. He opens his eyes to see a face, half hidden in shadow, staring at him through the bars of a cage. Sam jumps back across the floor of the cage, in shock for a moment. _What the hell…?_ After a couple of minutes, realisation dawns on him. He's been kidnapped.

"Where am I?"

The face outside of the cage simply grins sadistically and steps to the side. As the light from various candles around the room illuminates his face, Sam realises what the man is. Human. Just a human. Was this the man really responsible for all of those disappearances? The headless corpses that showed up? The half-eaten hand Sam found in the jungle?

"Where am I?" Sam repeats, louder this time.

The man simply turns and walks out of the room. Sam shakes his head in frustration. _Think, Sam, just think. There has to be a way out of here._

He steps forward to examine the front of the cage. There's a bolt at the top and a normal lock that appears to need a key. Plus the multiple padlocks holding the door in place. _Heavy security, convenient,_ Sam thinks, smirking in spite of himself. _Not even Dean would be able to get out of this._ Sam sighs and sits back down on the floor of the cage, racking his brains for a way out of this mess.

* * *

Dean crosses the road and climbs into the front seat of the Impala. Almost an hour and he'd found absolutely nothing that pointed to where whoever kidnapped Sam might have taken his younger brother. _This sucks out loud._ There has to be something he'd missed. Some sort of pattern that indicates how this thing, whatever it is, is choosing its victims. Why had it taken Sam but not Dean? If it simply feeds off human flesh then why is it letting people escape? There _has_ to be something else.

* * *

Almost two hours have passed since Sam regained consciousness and along with being confused, he is now bored out of his mind. There seems to be no possible way out of the cage and he still has no idea who his attacker is. All he knows is that he isn't the only victim. There's an older man, forty maybe fifty years old, in the cage beside him but he hasn't moved since Sam has been there. Sam isn't even sure if the poor guy is still alive.

Across the room, there is the screech of an un-oiled door swinging open. Sam's head jerks up but he can hardly see in the dim light coming from the only remaining candle that hasn't yet died down. The sound of footsteps grows closer and Sam can just make out a woman's voice, so soft it is barely audible, chanting the same phrase over and over again, like a religious person might repeat a phrase from the bible. She stops just outside Sam's cage and, even though he can't see her face, Sam can feel her eyes upon him.

"It's time." She whispers, her voice horse and raspy.

Sam barely has time to contemplate what she means by this before a shooting pain erupts through his skull and his vision becomes a brilliant white haze.

* * *

The next part won't be up for 2-3 weeks now 'cause I'm off to Florida in a couple of days, so I'msorry guys. Anyway, please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter and I'll try to have the next chapter up a.s.a.p. after I get back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Searing white flashes of pain. Blood spattered wall. A pentagram marked on the concrete floor in red paint. Flickering candles, fighting to stay lit in a sudden gust of wind. Chanting, Latin words, their meanings only half understood. The glitter of silver, a knife, slashes through the darkness. A scream. His own.

Sam's eyes flutter open and he gasps at the sudden wave of dizziness and foreboding danger that threatens to overwhelm him. The sharp stabbing agony slowly starts to fade as the sound of chanting drifts into Sam's mind, unnoticed at first among the many jumbling thoughts, until the low raspy voice causes Sam's brain to scream with recognition. The voice from his vision. His head jerks up and he sees the old woman swaying distractedly as she continues to chant beyond the bars of the cage.

* * *

After the second knock, Bethany opens the door. Dean doesn't even attempt to hide his desperation when he begins his plea.

"Bethany, I need to know if there's _anything_ else you remember about the night your friends were taken?"

A mixture of confusion and worry clouds the features of the teenage girl. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Something kidnapped my brother, the one who was here with me yesterday."

"Oh my God," Bethany whispers as she leans against the doorframe for support.

"Listen, if you know anything you have to tell me _right now_, even if it sounds stupid or…impossible."

"I told you everything I know, I _swear_. If it helps I can come with you and show you the direction I think my friends were taken but that's it, I don't remember anything other than what I already told you and the police."

"Thank you," Dean replies sincerely.

Bethany nods as she reaches for a coat and steps outside, closing the door behind her. "Anything I can do to help, somebody needs to stop this thing before it gets anybody else." She locks the door and slips the key into her coat pocket. "So you were never an FBI agent, were you?"

Dean shakes his head as he begins to cross the road to where his car is parked, relieved there may be a chance – no matter how small – that this girl may know something that can help him to find Sam. "Me and my brother, this sort of thing – the paranormal, I guess – it's kind of our job."

"So you're like a ghost hunter or something?"

Dean manages a faint smile, "something like that."

* * *

"It is time."

The voice is so normal, so human-sounding, that Sam almost falls over from shock. The old woman before him slowly lifts her head to look at Sam and he realises for the first time that she's blind, her eyes coated over with a milky-looking substance.

"Time for _what_?" Sam demands, not particularly surprised when the woman fails to answer.

Two men step out of the darkness, one the older man Sam saw before, presumably the woman's husband, and the other is tall, fair-haired and looks to be about late 20's. The latter has a sharp knife, only the point of which is visible from beneath the long sleeves of his jacket. As they move towards the cage, the younger of the two staring unblinkingly at Sam, Sam begins to back away, worried. Whoever these people are, it's clear to Sam from their gaunt faces and blank eyes that they're not human.

The door to the cage swings open, presumably triggered by a switch somewhere Sam guesses, and the younger man steps inside the cage. Sam immediately throws himself forward in a desperate attempt for freedom, landing a punch square in the man's jaw. Although the impact bruises his own knuckles, the other man remains completely still, showing no sign that he even felt the punch. After a few more seconds pass, Sam hesitant of what to try next, the man slowly takes a step forward and reaches out. Sam tries to back away before he realises he's already at the back of the cage. The man's hand lands on his arm and a shudder passes through Sam, so strong and cold that his vision blurs. Sam sways for a moment as the feeling spreads through his entire body before he collapses, barely enough energy to continue breathing, his strength almost completely drained.

* * *

When Sam opens his eyes again, he finds himself to be lying on cold hard concrete, a red pentagram drawn out around him. He tries force himself into a sitting position but his hands and ankles are both tied so he settles for rolling over to examine his surroundings. He's in the same warehouse building as in his vision and the old woman is chanting in Latin at an altar a few feet away. Her husband and son are both holding cut wrists over a chalice, letting a dark black substance that Sam isn't entirely sure is human blood drip into it.

Sam clears his dry throat, struggling to speak. "Why are you doing this?" He manages to choke out.

"It's the only way we can stay alive," the older man replies, making his way over to Sam, while rolling the sleeve of his shirt down over the wound on his wrist.

Sam shakes his head, confused. Whoever these people are, they're definitely not vampires and if they're some type of zombie then they're a species that's new to Sam.

His confusion must be evident to the older man, whom continues to explain with a lopsided grin on his face. "You see, Margie," he nods his head towards his wife, "made a deal with the devil." The man chuckles, revealing half-rotted, yellow teeth. "Saved my life she did. Cancer, doctors said I wouldn't last another week but she found a way. Sacrificing a few humans careless enough to walk around these parts in the middle of the night is a small price to pay if you ask me."

A look of disgust crosses Sam's face. The man simply sneers and walks over to his wife. Sam takes the opportunity to glance across at the youngest of the family, the son, still stood by the chalice, staring into the dark liquid within. Sam twists his arms, trying to pull at the rope, then rubs the rope against the concrete when that fails, in an attempt to wear it away. _Think, Sam, there must be some way out of this mess._

* * *

"Hey, come look at this!"

Dean turns at the sound of Bethany's voice.

"Dean!"

He heads in the direction of the sound, trying to locate Bethany through the maze of trees and undergrowth. Finally he finds her, knelt by one of the many small streams that flows through the woods.

"Drag marks. Think your brother could have been dragged along here?"

"It's worth a shot. Let's go."

Dean glances across the shallow stream, not more than a foot deep in the middle, and at the continuing drag marks on the other side, before beginning to make his way across the stream.

* * *

I apologize it took me about a week longer than I said to update but I came back from holiday to find the house flooded so everything's been a little hectic. Anyway, the next chapter will be the last in this ficand it's already half written so it should be up pretty soon if I'm lucky enough to avoid any more crisises.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Sam can barely believe his luck when he realises the he still has a penknife in his pocket, having immediately presumed that his kidnappers would have taken it off him. He spares another glance at the three family members, reassuring himself that they're distracted, before twisting as he struggles to reach the knife. He winces with the pain that explodes down his right shoulder, struggling not to cry out as he twists his bound hands towards his left pocket.

Finally he manages to pull out the penknife. Glancing at his kidnappers again, he opens it and begins hacking at the rope. _Please just give me a few minutes,_ he begs, praying that he'll be able to escape before he's noticed and loses his last chance.

* * *

"You really think he's in here?"

Dean shrugs as he examines the entrance to the old remains of a cabin.

"It's the only thing we've found out here other than trees and freakin' grass so far."

"True," Bethany smiles.

Dean pushes the slightly ajar door further, causing it to creak as it swings on its one remaining hinge.

He turns back to Bethany. "Let's go."

* * *

The inside of the cabin appears as derelict and uninhabited as the outside but Dean continues to search from room to room for some sign of Sam. Crossing the large living area, Dean notices a creak. He stops and takes a step back and the same creak resounds again. Crouching down, Dean lifts up the rug and sees a trap door.

"Hey, Bethany!"

She appears in the doorway a moment later.

"I think Sam might be down here."

Bethany steps up beside Dean, glancing nervously down at the trap door.

* * *

Sam struggles not to gasp in shock when the rope finally gives and the penknife falls from his hand. He glances across to make sure his kidnappers are unaware of his situation before scanning the room for the easiest means of escape. His only opportunity presents itself as a heavy metal door across the room. Sam slowly, carefully gets to his feet, the penknife still clutched in his right hand, and begins making his way towards the door, as silently as possible. When Sam is merely ten feet away, the youngest of the family looks up and notices Sam.

"Hey!"

Sam wastes no time in diving at the door but the son reaches him first, moving with what Sam is sure must be superhuman speed, and knocks Sam to the ground. Without hesitation, Sam plunges the knife up and into the man's stomach, twists it, then yanks it back out. The man looks shocked but shows no signs of pain and no blood spills from his wound. A look of shock and disgust crosses Sam's face.

"You can't kill me, I'm already dead," the man smirks, his father coming up to stand behind him.

"Jimmy you were supposed to be watching him," the man's father drawls. "You know we can't let him escape, we're already behind. You're mother needs him for her ritual. _I_ need his blood to stay alive."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Just see that it doesn't happen again. Tie him back up, cut him if you have to, just not too deep. We'll need nearly all of his blood."

The son, Jimmy, nods curtly and roughly drags Sam up onto his knees and, crouching down, begins tying Sam's hands behind his back. Before he has the chance to knot the rope, Sam shoots his elbow back into Jimmy's chest, knocking him backwards. Sam is just about to reach for the door when it flies open and Sam looks up to see his brother stood in the doorway.

"Sammy, are you alright?" Dean helps Sam to his feet.

"Ask me that in about ten minutes," Sam nods his head towards his kidnappers, Jimmy now starting to get to his feet and his father already headed towards them. Margie continues her chanting, oblivious to what's going on around her. Dean pulls a gun out of the back of his jeans and starts firing at Jimmy. The bullet goes through his forehead and he stares at them a moment before collapsing and dissipating into a cloud of dust before his body even hits the ground.

"Rock salt?" Sam asks, surprised, "but they're not ghosts."

Dean shrugs and fires off another three rounds at the father. "Whatever gets the job done."

"The mother's still in there."

Dean nods and steps further inside the room. The second he notices Margie, he fires and she too disappears in a cloud of dust.

"How did you do that?" Bethany asks from the doorway.

Dean shrugs, "I just wish they were all that easy. Ghosts especially are bastards to get rid of."

* * *

Dean watches as Bethany unlocks the door to her house and steps inside, pausing to turn and wave at Sam and Dean. The two brothers wave back and Dean starts the car.

"Hey, Sammy?"

"What?" Sam replies through gritted teeth.

"You get kidnapped again and I'm not saving your ass this time. It's really starting to become a regular thing."

"You didn't save my ass. Even if you hadn't showed, I still would have gotten out of there."

"Oh yeah? How? Were you hiding a rock-salt loaded gun all along?"

"Just drive."

"Whatever geek-boy."

"Jerk."

Dean smirks, "bitch."

* * *

The one flickering candle in the warehouse shudders one last time before going out, shrouding the room in darkness. The only sound to be heard is the scurry of rats until a loud whirring sound begins to increase in volume and a cloud of dust morphs together to show a young man. Jimmy.

"This isn't over, Winchesters. You think you're bullets can kill us?"

Behind Jimmy, his mother emerges out of another dust cloud, bearing an equally grim expression. She lays a hand gently on Jimmy's shoulder.

"Tonight was the last chance we had to keep your father alive."

"Don't worry, they'll pay. And we _will_ bring dad back. I don't care what we have to sacrifice to do it."

* * *

That's it for now guys, there may be a sequel one day but it's a longway off at the minute. Thanks for sticking with me through my first Supernatural fic and thanks for all of the kind reviews, you guys are the best seriously.


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